


it's a hell of a feeling though

by izzygone



Series: just rovinsky things [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Cocaine, Drug Use, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzygone/pseuds/izzygone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no plot here. Cocaine and sex. That's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a hell of a feeling though

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cxrranam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxrranam/gifts).



> This is part 1 in what will probably be a lengthy series based on "aesthetics" myself and fellow sinner, [cxrranam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cxrranam), have been discussing and associate with rovinsky.
> 
> I was gonna try to fit them all in one fic but... I can't. This one is based on "Kavinsky doing lines of coke off Ronan's skin." 
> 
> 100% not beta'd even a tiny bit. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Title from Panic! At the Disco's "Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time"

When Ronan feels the familiar gentle scratch, scratch burn of the razor blade against his skin, he goes visibly lax. There's something about this, about letting _Kavinsky_ do this that makes Ronan simultaneous hard in his pants and absolutely certain he should really, _really_  spend more time in church. 

He feels K's hot breath, the deep inhale, then the soft flick of that tongue soothing the scraped flesh just above his exposed hipbone. Kavinsky's grins up at him, a little madly, like he knows everything there ever was to know about Ronan and wants to fuck with him anyway.

It can be a deliriously addictive feeling, being wanted for everything under your skin as well as on it. 

It doesn't take a second for Kavinsky to flip him so Ronan's face down breathing the stale under-washed scent of his bed and fit himself neatly between Ronan's spread thighs. He tugs the always-loose jeans down Ronan's narrow hips and just under the swell of his ass, exposing him. Ronan just sort of sighs. This all feels so familiar, almost soothing, though he's told himself a million times he'd never let it happen again.

It's hard to act like that was true, though, when two of K's fingers slip inside him like it's nothing, like they're meant to be there. Kavinsky laughs, sharp and venomous as he pulls back, fingers slick with lube, "You dream of me fucking you?" 

Ronan makes a non-committal noise, aiming for an annoyed tone. He hadn't had to dream it, he'd fucked himself open with 3 fingers the old fashioned way before he even left Monmouth, but K really didn't need to know that.

It doesn't matter anyway because Kavinsky's not listening. He's too busy shoving his own jeans down, pulling his cock out. Ronan takes shallow breaths and just waits. He shouldn't let this happen. He should get up right now and walk right the fuck out of this place.

Instead, he shifts his hips a little, trying to widen them, to accommodate Kavinsky a little better, but he's trapped by the jeans bunched up at his thighs. Kavinsky leans over him, presses his cock against the shiny wet hole his fingers have so recently vacated. It's tight, and from above it looks like Ronan's ass is unwillingly swallowing him up, and the resistance is so _so_  good. Ronan's hole may be loose and wet with lube, but this angle, with his thighs only barely shifted apart, it's almost like the first time K took him, like the first time he'd let anyone in.

Kavinsky has to really lean, use gravity to force himself inside. Ronan is flat on the bed, trying to pretend his own cock isn't painfully hard, trapped between his body and the mattress, and he can feel every tiny twitch of Kavinsky's cock as it enters him, slowly, so much more slowly than he wants. Suddenly he's so desperate for it, he needs Kavinsky to _move_ , to fucking _wreck_  him like he usually does. He bucks back, trying to find purchase on the bed for better leverage, but K uses one arm to force him flat again, and Ronan has to ignore the spurt of precome this movement shocks out of him. He's acutely aware of exactly how much control Kavinsky has over him in this moment, and he wasn't going to admit to _anyone ever_  exactly how fucking hot he finds it.

With a snap of his hips, Kavinsky is suddenly all the way inside, and the brutality of it shocks a gasp out of Ronan. K ignores him and grinds against Ronan, forcing his dick so deep, Ronan can practically taste it. His hips move in a slow circle, the grind against Ronan's prostate nearly unbearable. Ronan has to bite his lips, hard enough almost to draw blood, to keep from screaming with the sick-sweet near pain of it. His fists tangle in the sheets, and despite his efforts, a tiny groan escapes him.

Then Kavinsky starts to move. Like, really _move_. He's fucking Ronan and laughing and using both hands to hold Ronan exactly where he wants him, using him like a cheap whore whose pleasure he couldn't give fewer fucks about. The idea makes Ronan's head spin a little, he smothers his face against the covers, trying so hard not fucking scream.

He hates this. He hates feeling vulnerable, hates letting Kavinsky just take whatever he wants from him, hates that he's getting off on this, hates that the friction between his cock and the sheets and between K's cock and his prostate is driving him slowly mad, and he's going to fucking _explode_.

He hates, most of all, that Kavinsky does this to him every fucking time and, no matter how terrible it is and how much he fucking hates it, he'll always come back to more. 

He can feel Kavinsky's hip bones now, each movement is like getting punched and he cannot fucking wait to feel the bruises. Just for fun, he struggles a little, wants to see what Kavinsky will do about it.

It earns him a hard smack across the back of his neck and he has to release his jaw in order to moan because _yeah, that's what I deserve_. And Kavinsky doesn't stop. He smacks Ronan over and over across the neck and the back of his head, Ronan moaning like a slut for it the whole goddamn time, then, with a few particularly sharp jabs of his hips, he places his hand there and fucking _holds_ him down. Ronan's moans and breathing and _everything_  stops. It's all stifled by the sheets and the mattress and Ronan can't do shit about it. Kavinsky has the upper hand above him and he's fucking exhausted and K could keep him like this _all fucking night_  and –

He wishes that wasn't the thing that makes him come. He could blame Kavinsky for the relented strokes against his prostate, targeted for the purpose of taking Ronan apart piece by piece, but admitting to that would be even worse.

He's not sure how long after that he's stuck like that. Kavinsky doesn't let up just because Ronan's finished, he really never does, he just fucks Ronan with a savage, wild abandon, cutting off his air supply and apparently not giving a flying fuck about it. Ronan's vision starts to go a little fuzzy at the edges when he feels it – K is getting off on this. On Ronan's total fucking _helplessness_  and that's fucking fine by him. He goes completely lax again, like he wants Kavinsky to do another line off him, like he's accepted death at Kavinsky's hands. And that's enough. Kavinsky shudders and Ronan feels it, the hot, humiliatingly delicious flooding of come in his ass. 

After, Kavinsky pulls out another baggie of blow and lights a cigarette. Ronan steals the cigarette from him and lies on his back, too fucked out and relaxed to care that K's doing another line off his skin and that means they're going to do it all again.

**Author's Note:**

> I am [the-real-izzygone](http://tumblr.com/the-real-izzygone) on tumblr and if you have any "aesthetics" you'd like to add to the series, please feel free to contact me there literally any time.


End file.
